86 Poetry for Students

are counteracted by an absurd, impossible, comedic

admission. The speaker is using a “burning

snowflake” to pry open the coffin. Now an act we

thought of as desperate and determined is nothing

more than foolish and half-hearted, if that. The sar-

casm toward readers of his poetry in this line comes

quickly and unexpectedly. But the about-face is not

that unusual in Tate’s poetry, and the use of incon-

gruous images is one of his specialties. In a 1982

interview for The Poetry Miscellany(reprinted in

The Route as Briefed) with critic Richard Jackson,

Tate stated that he attempts to “set expressions in

motion against whole new meanings so that you

can’t classify them as simple statements. The reader

thinks that the poem is making a statement and then

all of a sudden the poem insists that the reader think

about words, not about content.” The second line in

“Dear Reader” does force us to think about the

words,especially in conjunction with the first line—

“burning,” “snowflake,” and “casket” are all un-

likely companions.

Line 3:

Line 3 is a declaration of the self-sacrifice that

the poet is willing to endure to connect with us, but

now we are leery of his sincerity. “I’ll give up my

sleep for you” tells us that he will work all night

to write a poem if that is what it takes to satisfy us,

to create something that we appreciate. This line is

“softer” than the one preceding it and several of

those that follow, and it seemslike an honest ges-

ture of eagerness to please. Given the previous

tongue-in-cheek remark, however, we need to see

where the rest of the poem goes before deciding on

the poet’s intent.

Lines 4-5:

These lines return to the exaggeration of the

entire surreal scene. At this point, we picture a des-

perate man standing over a casket late at night dur-

ing a blizzard, trying to use a snowflake as though

it is a crowbar. With the sleet pouring down, he can

barely see what he is doing or whether he is pro-

gressing in prying the coffin open. All of this, of

course, is a metaphor for how difficult it is to cre-

ate a good poem for a fickle audience. The scenario

is full of self-pity, opposing the struggling writer

against the unimpressed “dear reader” who is still

waiting to be entertained.

Lines 6-7:

Lines 6 and 7 indicate that the poet is indeed

sincere in his effort to stay in touch with his read-

ers, and he admits that it will be a “trick”—or a

real feat—to make that connection. He will go so

far as to “rub our hands” to bring some life back

into the relationship between poet and reader, but

the “maybe” that ends line 7 once again throws a

little doubt into the mix. The word is ambiguous

here, for it can be seen as the bridge to the next

line so that we read it as “maybe / start a little fire,”

or it can leave in limbo the idea of reviving a lost

reader: “ we can rub our hands / together, maybe.”

Lines 8-9:

Line 8 may be an extension of the thought be-

gun in the previous two lines, but it also implies

starting a fire with something other than hands—

in this case, “identification papers.” Perhaps Tate

means here that our hands area form of our iden-

tities, but the term also reflects an estrangement or

a lack of familiarity between the poet and the

reader, or the desperate would-be savior and the

dead, so to speak. If we must show someone ID pa-

pers, we must not already be acquaintances, much

less friends.

Line 10:

Line 10 presents the speaker as both doubtful

and determined. Exactly what he does not “know”

is not spelled out, but it seems that he is not sure

Dear Reader

Media

Adaptations

• If you have audio access on your computer, you
  can hear James Tate read his poem “Restless
  Leg Syndrome” by clicking on the “Hear James
  Tate Read” icon at http://www.poets.org/LIT/
  poet/jtatefst.htm.


• A 1996 cassette recording by James Tate in-
  cludes his witty, comedic reading of several
  poems, including “How the Pope Is Chosen”
  and “An Eland, In Retirement” from Wor-
  shipful Company of Fletchers.Tate is intro-
  duced by fellow poet Jon Ashbery. The tape
  runs 60 minutes and is available from The
  Academy of American Poets Tapes Program
  in New York.